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Triskelion Tower, Top Floor Office
"Ever since Tony Stark announced the shutdown of Stark Industries' weapons division, the company's stock value has been in free fall,"the news anchor reported crisply.
"As of this broadcast, Stark Industries' shares have already plummeted by thirty-seven percent… and the downward spiral shows no sign of stopping."
"Analysts now predict the total decline could soon exceed fifty percent, marking one of the steepest drops in the company's history."
The words echoed across the spacious office as Alexander Pierce reclined comfortably on a sleek leather sofa. His gaze remained locked on the massive wall-mounted screen, a faint, mocking smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
'That Tony Stark… what a fool.'
'A self-righteous child, clinging to the illusion of morality. Throwing away a fortune in the name of a conscience. Such a pitiful waste.'
Pierce's eyes narrowed slightly, his expression hardening as he considered the numbers flashing on-screen. A treasure trove of resources, power, and influence, burned down in a single stroke. If Hydra controlled such a financial juggernaut, the organization's most ambitious projects, the ones still buried in shadows and secrecy, could finally rise into the light.
But no. Tony Stark had taken the axe to his own empire, reducing Hydra's future opportunities to ashes.
*Knock, knock, knock!*
The sound of rapping knuckles came from the door. Pierce casually grabbed the remote and powered off the screen.
*Click*
The screen went black, leaving only his reflection faintly mirrored back.
"Come in," he said evenly.
The door swung open, and Marco stepped through, moving with his usual blend of confidence and restraint.
"Well then, Marco," Pierce began, his tone carrying just the faintest hint of curiosity. "You mentioned you had good news for me. Let's hear it."
Marco had already hinted at something significant before walking in, something important enough that he had insisted Pierce needed to hear it directly. That alone was unusual.
Tony Stark's kidnapping was major news for any intelligence agency. But for someone like Pierce? Hardly worth his time. Even Nick Fury probably wouldn't lose sleep over it.
So if Marco thought this news was worth Pierce's personal attention… it had to be something far more intriguing.
"Sir," Marco said, his voice low and secretive, "I think you should take a look at this."
He produced a sleek USB drive from his briefcase and placed it carefully on the table in front of Pierce.
Pierce raised a brow, a faint glimmer of curiosity in his eyes, before sliding the drive into his computer. A folder filled with neatly organized video and audio files immediately popped up.
He clicked through several of the videos first. Grainy, brutal footage filled the screen, Raza and his men tormenting Tony Stark in that cave. Ugly, yes, but hardly surprising. Pierce leaned back, unimpressed.
Then he opened one of the audio files.
And that was when things shifted.
The crackling voices of Raza and another man came through, the quality clear enough to strip away any possibility of misinterpretation.
The revelation was undeniable: Raza and his Ten Rings mercenaries hadn't abducted Stark on their own initiative. They had been contracted.
And not for a kidnapping. For an assassination.
Someone had paid them to eliminate Tony Stark.
Only after the deal was sealed did Raza realize who the target actually was. That unexpected detail emboldened him to demand more money. When negotiations stalled, he pivoted, deciding Stark's brilliance was worth exploiting. Why kill the golden goose immediately when he could be forced to build weapons first?
Pierce listened intently, the second voice needling at the edge of his memory. Something about the cadence, the tone… it gnawed at him. His brow furrowed, and then the recognition struck like a lightning bolt. His eyes widened ever so slightly.
"…Obadiah Stane?" he murmured, his voice edged with surprise.
"Yes, sir." Marco gave a firm nod. "The terrorists admitted everything. They didn't hold back. It was Stane who ordered the hit on Tony Stark. The kidnapping was never part of the plan; it was supposed to be a clean assassination."
"But when Raza's men realized who their target really was, they stalled. They tried to renegotiate the price. The two sides never reached an agreement, and that's the only reason Stark is still alive."
Marco reached back into his briefcase and withdrew a thick folder, setting it beside the computer. "Here are the transcripts from their interrogations, along with corroborating material. It's ironclad."
Pierce's eyes glimmered with interest as he lifted his teacup, swirling the liquid with idle grace. A slow, almost predatory smile spread across his face. "Well, well… Obadiah wanted Stark dead. If this ever saw daylight, jaws across the world would hit the floor."
He took a measured sip, savoring both the tea and the revelation, then carefully set the cup back down. His gaze sharpened as it settled on Marco. "So… how do you intend to use this?"
"This is our chance to seize Stark Industries," Marco said without hesitation. "Stane practically handed us the keys. There's no way we're letting this slip through our fingers."
Pierce didn't reply immediately. Instead, he leaned back, his expression calm yet satisfied, letting the silence stretch as his thoughts clicked neatly into place.
Marco's instincts mirrored his own perfectly. With such incriminating leverage over Obadiah Stane, Hydra wouldn't need to wrestle control of Stark Industries; it would fall into their hands effortlessly.
And Stark Industries was no ordinary prize. Even for Hydra, a global titan like this was a treasure trove of power, influence, and technological advancement.
A soft, quiet chuckle rumbled in Pierce's chest. 'Who would have guessed? The kidnapping of one arrogant, spoiled billionaire has turned into an opportunity beyond measure. It's almost as though destiny itself is smiling on Hydra.'
"Sir," Marco's voice cut in, his tone deliberate, "there's something else you'll want to see."
Pierce raised an eyebrow as Marco reached back into his briefcase once more. This time, he withdrew several large sheets and spread them neatly across the desk.
Pierce leaned forward, picking up the pages one by one. At first glance, they appeared to be nothing more than technical blueprints, schematics of mechanical parts, disjointed and incomplete. Nothing about them seemed particularly noteworthy.
He skimmed them with little interest, his expression flat, before setting the sheets back down on the desk. His brow arched slightly as he regarded Marco. "So tell me, what exactly am I looking at here?"
"Stack them together, sir," Marco instructed, his voice carrying a note of meaning.
Pierce frowned, curiosity piqued despite himself. He carefully aligned the pages, sliding one over the other, piece by piece. And then...
His eyes widened.
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Next Chapter: Making an Iron Man Suit
Next Next Chapter: That's Just Insane
Next Next Next Chapter: Tony Stark Visits
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